


Real

by SQ (proteinscollide)



Category: Revenge (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-21
Updated: 2011-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-27 16:05:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proteinscollide/pseuds/SQ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The things Nolan Ross wants and can't have, for love or money.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Real

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cobweb_diamond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobweb_diamond/gifts).



> Canon compliant up to 1.09
> 
> Many many thanks to Ro (littlerhymes) for going above and beyond as a beta. :)

Nolan stares out the wall of windows to his right, at the lush greenery just beyond the snarl of traffic circling below.

He’s rarely here – he didn’t invest in and develop so much technology to be tied to a room, much less an office, even a corner one with a view to kill for – and whenever he’s here he’s reminded why. God, he feels so ineffectual here, when he could be sitting by the pool doing exactly the same amount of work, making the same difference.

He’s glad for the distraction when his cell phone trills, vibrating once, twice, on the his shiny, empty desk.

Nolan checks for the sender. When he sees it’s Tyler he’s surprised for all of a nanosecond and then he rolls his eyes.

 _In town on business. Lunch at Asiate?_

If Tyler’s initiating a meeting, if Tyler’s asking nicely, then Tyler surely wants something. But all the same, Nolan leans over and presses a button set discreetly to his left.

“Jeff, why am I still here?” Nolan asks.

There’s a pause, dead air, then his PA says, in the calmest of voices, “Are you asking, Mr Ross, because you’re having an existential crisis? Or do you just want to know your schedule for the rest of the day?”

Nolan grins. “I like you,” he says. “Tell HR they did a good job this time. And yes to both but since you’re new I’ll just trouble you for the latter.”

Jeff is the fourth PA Nolan’s had this year. There’s a new one outside the door every time he comes in, so that they all fade into a jumble of dark hair and overly eager smiles in his mind. Nolan appreciates they’ve finally found one with a discernible personality as well as being young and good-looking.

There’s some clicking and then Jeff says, “You’ve done your penance with the Board meeting this morning, you’re free for the afternoon.”

Nolan’s flinging on his jacket before the sentence is even finished, pushing the sleeves up past his elbows as he leaves. Tyler meets him in the lobby of the Mandarin, considering Nolan bemusedly.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he says, flicking the lapel of Nolan’s jacket. Nolan had gone for a subdued dove-grey for the office, but the shirt is a bright, lemon yellow with a matching pocket square, the tie green and black striped.

“What, you don’t think this screams hot, successful and richer than you?” Nolan says, pulling a quick, ridiculous pose.

Tyler smirks and says, “We should go shopping some time, and you can dress me up in one of your creative ensembles. I’m sure it’d be a real hit over at the Grayson Global office.”

Tyler’s in a slate-colored suit, matched perfectly with a somber navy tie, a crisp Oxford shirt with the coolest hint of blue. Nolan’s not seen him in it before; and as he follow him through the carpeted corridor to the restaurant he admires the way it sits tighter on Tyler than the linen suits he favors when they’re in the Hamptons.

But all Nolan says out loud is, “More opportunities for you to spend my money? So looking forward to it.”

Tyler snorts as the maitre d’ approaches to show them to their table, but he lets Nolan keep his hand on Tyler’s back as they walk through the room, a reconciliatory touch. They sit by the much vaunted view, verdant and dizzying, but Nolan spends lunch watching Tyler and Tyler’s here to be seen rather than to see.

At the end of the meal, Tyler leans back, lazy and satisfied.

“I guess I’m paying for it,” Nolan says mildly, already flagging down a waiter.

“It’s a business lunch, claim it as an expense,” Tyler says, shrugging.

“Why can’t we dine out on Grayson’s money instead?” Nolan says flippantly, only to see the scowl deepening on Tyler’s face. “Ah, still on the bottom rung?” he says, unable to help himself from poking the sore spot. “Next time, then. I’m sure you’ll have climbed over a few more bodies by that time.”

Tyler doesn’t answer, for once refusing to rise to the bait. After a quiet moment, Nolan studying Tyler’s fingers drumming on the table, he finally asks, “So if this was business not pleasure, what are meant to be discussing?”

Tyler looks up at Nolan from under his lashes, leans over and says in a low voice, “Get us a room and you can have me for the rest of the day.”

“That’s an offer, not a proposal. What’s in it for you?”

“Ashley’s convinced Victoria Grayson to host a party - ”

“Not big news – I hear that’s her job,” Nolan snarks.

Tyler ignores him and says, “It’s not just any event; Ash wants to throw me a birthday party.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“April past, but never mind the details. The main thing is, Victoria’s agreed to host it, and it’ll be the best networking opportunity I get this summer.”

“Cool story, bro. Get to the point where I come in.”

“Well, Victoria’s going so far as to host it and Ashley can pull it together but I can’t expect two such lovely ladies to pay my way…”

“Ah, but you want me to,” Nolan says. “Are you seriously trying to wine and dine me with my own money so you can ask me to pay for a party your girlfriend is gifting you with? Tyler, your relationship with Ashley amuses me, it really does. I’ve bought her a present, I’m buying you a present, so when exactly do I get mine?”

“Upstairs, in about fifteen minutes,” Tyler says. “It’s yours for the taking; and I promise l’ll make it worth your while – I always do.”

“How about you make good on that promise and I’ll think about it?” Nolan says, but he knows he’s lost this round when Tyler smiles and steers him toward the front desk in reception as they leave.

The girl at the counter is efficiently warm, solicitous. “The presidential suite, certainly, Mr Ross,” she says, not looking at him as her fingers fly over the keyboard. “Would you like us to send up some complimentary champagne?”

Nolan looks across the lobby, at Tyler leaning against a pillar, a faint smile on his face as he talks on his phone. He’s probably telling Ashley some half-truth, a soothing lie to explain how all Nolan wants is his precious time in exchange for his money. But then Nolan thinks about champagne on Tyler’s skin, burning and golden, and he feels his mouth go dry.

“That would be great, thanks.” Nolan says, with a distracted smile. He turns and walks away toward Tyler, who snaps his phone shut as Nolan nears. He slips an arm around Nolan’s waist as they walk toward the elevator, the very picture of a devoted boyfriend. Nolan draws closer to him, tries not to enjoy too much the heavy warmth of his arm pressing against his back, the way it feels so comfortable, almost real.

Tyler teases him as they enter the elevator, “You look distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

“I was thinking of how you’d taste,” Nolan says truthfully.

The elevator door closes shut behind them. Tyler loops his other arm around Nolan, encircling him. “Really? Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

It’s a long way up to the fifty-third floor, even in a private elevator; it gives him ample opportunity find out.

“So tell me,” Tyler says, panting, when they finally part as they arrive on their floor, still swaying gently with the slight vertigo of their rapid descent.

Nolan pauses, then he licks his lips self-consciously and says, “Expensive.”

Tyler laughs, delighted. “Does that mean yes?”

He grabs Nolan’s hand and pulls him into the suite. The city’s spread out before them, miles beneath their feet, but when Tyler leans back against the glass, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the sound, Nolan barely notices anything but Tyler’s neck, the pulse under his skin where he drops a kiss.

“Hm, I’m still not entirely convinced,” he teases, fingers slipping under the knot of Tyler’s tie, loosening it. He leaves it around Tyler though as the shirt comes off, holding onto the ends to draw Tyler closer as he works his thigh between Tyler’s legs, smiling as he hears Tyler gasp at the friction.

“I’ve been told I’m very convincing,” Tyler purrs, mouth right by Nolan’s ear. He slides his lips down and bites once, gently, at the nape of Nolan’s neck. Nolan shudders, fingers digging into the flesh where he’s clutching at Tyler’s hips, forgetting in the next moment all his misgivings about precisely how Tyler’s honed his gifts of persuasion.

* - * - *

Nolan’s smiling when Emily opens the door, his good mood from a most rewarding afternoon not dampened by her cold reception.

“I wasn’t expecting guests,” Emily says, sighing, but she holds the door open for him to enter.

He brandishes the bottle of ‘98 Petrus at her and she tips her head to one side and says begrudgingly, “Is that a gift or a bribe?”

“Why can’t it be both?” Nolan says. “I’m here to talk shop. Also, to pick your brains for what to get the birthday boy.”

“It’s really his birthday?” Emily asks, skeptical. “Not quite the impression I got from Daniel this afternoon.”

“Well he says it is,” Nolan says, and he can’t help adding, “He came to see me this afternoon and practically begged for my attendance at the party. Of course, I’m sure it’ll cost me a pretty penny.”

“You’re thinking of investing more with him?” Emily says, wrinkling her nose. “Nolan, you know he wasn’t even supposed to get his evil little paws on the first twenty million.”

“Well, he had an appealing argument,” Nolan says, not meeting her eyes.

“Can you argue on my behalf then?” Emily says, and Nolan almost chokes. “Ashley’s still angry at me and she’s threatening to ban me. And there’s nothing Victoria would like better.”

“Isn’t that Prince Charming’s job?” Nolan grumbles. “Surely he can just bat those pretty eyes of his at his mother and at Tyler and get his way.”

“I’ll tell Daniel you think he has pretty eyes,” Emily says drily. “Yes, he’s trying his best, but it wouldn’t hurt if you used your influence with Tyler. Not that I really want to spend an evening making nice with the rat, but I can’t have Victoria thinking of ways to keep me out of that house.”

“Fine,” Nolan says, but he’s smiling as he sits down at the dining table, pouring himself a glass. “Ems, we really should make these a regular event,” he says, leaning back against the chair with a satisfied sigh. “A weekly team meeting with strategy, plotting and takedowns on the agenda.”

Emily settles across from him and gives him a withering look. “We are not a team,” she says, pouring herself a glass. “You just keep showing up and I’m too nice to send you packing.”

“Too nice, hah,” Nolan says. “And aren’t you forgetting the part I play in your games? All the technological expertise I bring to the table?”

“It’s not a game,” Emily says sharply. “And you’re useful, I’ll grant you that, but that doesn’t make us a team.”

She sets her glass down on the table and then she looks up at Nolan, an intense study. Nolan begins to squirm under her gaze.

“Why are you so insistent on being a part of this?” she says finally.

“I told you, your father – “ Nolan starts to say, and Emily stops him with a look.

“No, that’s why you met me at the gate and gave me the box. But now – you keep telling me that the stakes are high, that we’ll get caught; you’re so afraid of how deep in you are. Nolan, the door’s over there and you can leave anytime you like. So why do you keep coming back for more?”

It’s one of the longest, least caustic things Emily has said to him all this time – not terse directions snapped down the phone or cold farewells – but a genuine desire to know the workings of his mind. Nolan makes her wait, turns her questions over and over, taking his time to consider all his possible answers and how she’d respond to them.

“Because that’s what friends do,” he says eventually. “They help each other out, even when the going gets tough. I was lucky that your father saw me as a friend, and I’m hoping you do too.”

Nolan thinks for a moment the look in Emily’s eyes becomes less guarded, soft, but maybe he only imagines it, because then she’s taking another sip of her wine with that composed impenetrable game face.

“That’s very misguided of you,” she says. “Or disingenuous. I haven’t quite decided.”

Nolan screws up his mouth. “I say something nice to you and you’re calling me a liar? You’re impossible, Ems.”

Emily shrugs. “I’ve never given you any reason to see me as a friend.”

“It’s not always up to you, you don’t actually control the whole world, despite your elaborate plans,” Nolan says, exasperated. “You can’t control what I do or don’t think, what I do or don’t feel.”

“Are you really so lonely that you’ll stoop to making friends with me?” Emily changes tack, a small mocking smile playing around her lips. “Don’t you have Jack for that? Or, heaven forbid, even someone like Tyler?”

“You do know we can go through life with more than one friend, right?” Nolan says. “I like expanding my horizons and letting a few people close to me. I hear it’s good for you. Man not made to be alone and all.”

“I am,” Emily says. “I’m alone.”

“And look how well-adjusted and pleasant you are,” Nolan teases. At Emily’s stony look he says, more gently, “Ems, aren’t you listening to me? You don’t have to be alone. Me, Jack, Ashley, even your Ken doll of a boyfriend – you have friends. You have people who care about you.”

“You’re all liabilities, then,” Emily says, standing up abruptly. “Liabilities or long-cons. And when the truth finally comes out, when I’m done, where will you all be? Still standing by me, _caring_?”

She wraps her arms tightly around her, as if to ward off a chill only she can feel and walks over to the door.

“I think you should leave now,” she says. Her voice is measured, reasonable; she even has the ghost of a polite smile on her face. But her eyes are flinty hard and she stares at him until he moves. He reaches out when he’s level with her, to reassure her with a touch, but she jerks her shoulder away.

“Goodnight, Nolan,” she says, when he’s outside on the porch.

“Night, Ems. Same bat time, same bat channel next week?” he asks, but she’s already closing the door on him.

* - * - *

“They make a handsome couple, don’t they?”

Nolan jumps, a splash of wine trickling down his hand and onto the cuff of his jacket. It doesn’t show on the red, grey and white shadow plaid, but he grimaces and dabs at it with a napkin anyway, all while Victoria stands by with that amused, watchful look of hers.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your thoughts,” she says.

“No, it’s fine,” Nolan says tightly. “Beautiful party, as always.”

“Thank you, I’m so delighted you’re enjoying yourself. It really was quite hard to get you to come to our parties last year. Conrad was so disappointed since he would’ve loved to have cornered you on business.”

The smile on Victoria’s face doesn’t slip an inch as she talks about Conrad. Nolan marvels at her composure.

“But you’ve been to quite a few of our little events this summer, I’ve noticed. We must have found the right leverage finally.”

Her eyes slide over to where Nolan has been looking all this time, where Tyler and Ashley are standing with their arms around each other’s waists, the centre of attention as guests arrive in the atrium.

“I made a resolution to socialize more,” Nolan says. “So here I am, again. At least that’s one I can tick off, for all my sins.”

Victoria laughs, a rich sound. “Oh Nolan, are you trying to tell me you’re hiding a trove of vices?”

“Aren’t we all,” Nolan says, and he manages to make it a statement, not a question. Victoria fixes him with a sharp glance, and Nolan takes an instinctive step backwards to put a little distance between them.

“Victoria, there you are. Nolan, looking festive.” Emily materializes by his elbow, sounding for all the world like she’s actually happy to see them both.

“Emily, what a surprise! I didn’t realize you and Tyler were close,” Victoria says, bussing Emily with a cool kiss on the cheek.

“Any friend of Daniel’s is a friend of mine,” Emily says easily.

“Yes, friends are so important,” Victoria says, eyes widening as she adds, “That reminds me, I’ve always meant to ask you – how _do_ you and Nolan know each other? With you popping up out of nowhere this summer, and Nolan’s positively hermit-like ways in past seasons, well. You can’t blame a woman for being curious.”

“Nolan and I go far back,” Emily says smoothly. “He was a friend of my father’s.”

“We met at a NolCorp dinner,” Nolan breaks in nervously, embellishing the story on the fly. “He was a keen investor and he thought I could give Ems here a few pointers when she was starting her portfolio.”

Emily angles her body away from Victoria to glare at him, then she turns with a sweet expression on her face again and adds, “Yes, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. I like to keep a close eye on my best investments.”

“That explains how close you two are,” Victoria says lightly. “Why, I’m glad my son’s not the jealous type, with Nolan in and out of your place all the time.”

“That’s right, Daniel told me what a spectacular view you have over our properties,” Emily says in her steeliest voice. “With you keeping such a close eye I’m sure Daniel doesn’t need to worry about anything at all.”

Victoria narrows her eyes at Emily but before she can say another word Emily smiles and waves. “Daniel, over here,” she calls and then she turns to Nolan and says, “Aren’t you going to greet Tyler? It is his birthday party after all.”

Nolan knows a dismissal when he hears one, and also a blessed escape. He can almost hear the clash of steel as Emily and Victoria preparing to go to war, and he pities for a moment the poor sucker who strolls over unwittingly to greet his mother and girlfriend. Nolan says a polite hello as he passes and heads across the courtyard back toward the house.

Tyler and Ashley are still holding court by the doorway, acting as if they were the gracious hosts, the next king and queen of the Hamptons. Nolan sighs and wonders if it’s even worth the trouble playing along. In that moment, Tyler looks up and catches his eye. Nolan hesitates, then cocks his head to one side; watches Tyler wet his lips and then nod. He’s leaning in to whisper in Ashley’s ear when Nolan turns to go.

He doesn’t have to wait long in the poolhouse. Tyler’s harried when he walks in, still looking nervously behind him. “I don’t have long - ”

Nolan takes the opportunity to push Tyler up against the wall while he’s distracted. The blinds in the room cast stripes of light across Tyler’s face, his surprised expression visible then hidden in turn.

In the gap between the slatted blinds Nolan can see out across the pool, to the lighted courtyard, the color and movement of New York’s finest. And he knows Tyler can catch just the flicker of it from the corner of his eyes. They’re not that far, that well hidden, from the world that Tyler wants so desperately to be a part of.

Nolan holds Tyler there, pinned beneath him against the wall, and waits to see what he’ll do; he’s expecting Tyler to throw him off, to reject him in here as he would out there. But Tyler just relaxes under him, sliding an arm around Nolan’s waist, under his shirt, and looks up into Nolan’s eyes. Nolan feels his breath catch for a moment, at the sweet surrender in the action.

“Thank you for my party,” Tyler slurs. This close, even in the near-dark of the room, Nolan can see the flush high on Tyler’s cheeks. Nolan thinks, bitterly, that Tyler is such a consummate hustler that he even remembers to play nice when he’s drunk.

Nolan forces himself keep things light, to leer in return, “That’s not the only gift I had in mind.”

His fingers creep under the waistband, and he rubs his thumb against the warm skin of Tyler’s stomach, feeling him shiver. He chases it with his tongue, mouthing at the skin as he pulls at Tyler’s slacks. Tyler grunts, short and sharp, and cards his fingers through Nolan’s hair as he kisses a line from Tyler’s navel. Tyler pulls at his hair when he reaches the base of his cock, hard enough that Nolan’s forced to crane back and look up at him.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Tyler says breathlessly. He traces a finger along Nolan’s lips lightly, then he nudges his hips forward and Nolan leans in to take him into his mouth. Tyler’s hard already and it doesn’t take long before he’s coming in a rush, a low shout, and Nolan swallows.

Tyler falls to his knees, panting, but even as he rests his head on Nolan’s shoulder he’s tugging at the fly of Nolan’s trousers, licking his palm and wrapping his hand around Nolan’s cock. He works it hard and fast and he’s murmuring useless, meaningless words, his mouth slipping and sliding against Nolan’s ear, and the quiet, warm sound of it brings Nolan to the edge, so close, and then Tyler cups his other hand around Nolan’s neck and pulls him in for a deep, dirty kiss as he comes.

Nolan drags himself up onto the sofa, sprawling bonelessly along it. He watches with hooded eyes as Tyler busies himself with tidying from bottom to top; trousers, belt, shirt, hair. When everything’s back in place, not a single piece of evidence of what just happened remaining, Tyler turns to Nolan and says, “I should be getting back. The party awaits.”

He smiles, game face on once more and Nolan can’t help but ask, “Who are you really? The guy with me here and now; the charmer outside with the beautiful, adoring girlfriend; or the scheming bastard who’s running rings around us all with his plans?”

“Are you jealous of Ashley?” Tyler asks. “Because that’s not part of the arrangement. I can’t – what those people out there need to see is - ”

“I don’t care about that,” Nolan says impatiently. “That’s not what I asked. I don’t care whose hand you’re holding for the sake of the masses. But I can’t help caring how honest you are when you’re with me. I want to know who the real Tyler is, if there is one.”

“You’re making a lot of demands for someone who doesn’t care,” Tyler says in a low, rough voice. “What does it matter that I’m a different person with you than I am with Ashley, or anyone else for that matter? And if you want the real Tyler, well, then you’re asking for more than even Ash is getting.”

They stare at each other in stony silence, facing one another for a long minute. Then the door opens, the noise of the party filling the room with chatter, and Ashley peers in, her voice bright.

“There you are,” she says. “I’ve been looking all over for you. They’re getting ready to cut the cake.”

She steps further into the room, a big smile on her face for Tyler, and then she notices Nolan.

“Or maybe I should’ve guessed,” she says furiously, her face falling. “What is this, making sure the bar tab gets paid tonight?”

“I just needed some time out, Ash, I thought I’d catch my breath with a drink.” Tyler says, placatingly. “We were just talking,”

“Right,” Ashley says. “Talking and drinking.” She looks pointedly at the table in front of them, the lack of glasses.

“No, actually, we’re done talking,” Nolan says, standing up. “I won’t ruin your party any further. Have fun kids, I know where I’m not wanted.”

Both Tyler and Ashley are silent as he walks past them to the door. Nolan pauses just outside – waits for some movement behind him, someone to say his name – but there’s nothing. He goes to the bathroom and splashes water on his face, rinses out his mouth.

When he walks back out, there’s singing from the courtyard. They’ve brought out the cake, with its small bonfire of candles, and Nolan watches as Tyler blows them out, Ashley laughing as one small flame stubbornly refuses to die. When it’s finally extinguished Tyler catches Ashley in his arms, dips her and kisses her to catcalls and cheers, in a picture-perfect end to the night.

Nolan turns on his heel and keeps walking, right out the door.

* - * - *

It’s late, very late, when Nolan’s doorbell chimes. Nolan hadn’t been able to sleep when he returned from the party – he’d crawled into his pajamas, then into bed; but he moves back out to the lounge with his laptop after an hour of tossing and turning. He’s doing nothing much now – sifting through figures and data and news on his feeds aimlessly, but he’s comfortable if not entirely drowsy, and he considers not answering the door.

But then his late night guest leans heavily on the doorbell again and again, and Nolan’s as curious as he is annoyed.

“Really?” he says as he opens the door to Tyler.

“Hi,” Tyler says. “Can I come in?” He’s dressed as casually as Nolan’s ever seen him, in jeans and with the collar of his polo askew, peeking out beneath a navy cable knit sweater. He looks tired, soft around the edges, and as he sways on his feet a little he leans against the door jamb with his head pillowed on one arm. He looks upwards at Nolan and says, “I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“Really?” Nolan repeats. But he leaves the door open behind him as he walks away, and he hears the door click close quietly, Tyler’s soft footsteps behind him.

He settles back onto his spot on the couch and looks up as Tyler walks into the room. Nolan expects him to stay standing, a height advantage for whatever confrontation he has in mind, or to take the seat across from him. But Tyler folds himself onto his knees instead, beside Nolan, and rests his head on Nolan’s thigh.

“I couldn’t sleep, knowing you were angry with me,” Tyler says in a small voice. He casts his eyes downward, keeps them trained on the inside of Nolan’s thigh by his face, and brings his fingers to rest there. He starts tracing meaningless figures, gentle and teasing, running them along the seam upwards.

Nolan shivers and closes his eyes. He counts to ten slowly. Then he opens his eyes, makes a frustrated noise and sits up, dislodging Tyler.

“Stop pretending,” he says harshly. “Stop being what you think I want, so you get what you want. Just ask me, be crass and proposition me, but don’t deal in this fake affection.”

Tyler sits up, eyes sharp. “I thought this is what you wanted,” he says in a tight voice. “Quality time, I think you called it.”

“Well, I’m tired of what you think quality time is,” Nolan says. “It’s as real as you are. Drop the act, Tyler, we both know you’re not the warm and fuzzy kind.”

“Fine,” Tyler says shortly. He gets up and turns away and Nolan thinks, _Ah well, so it ends –_

But then Tyler walks over behind the bar and pours himself a finger of scotch. “You want one?” he asks. Nolan dips his head, shrugs, and Tyler pours a second one and brings them both over, putting them down on the table by Nolan’s head. He touches Nolan lightly on the shoulder and says, “Scoot up.”

Tyler tucks himself in behind Nolan and puts an arm around his chest. He picks up his glass with his other hand and says, “Just be myself, right?”

Nolan settles back, wriggling his shoulders before finding a more comfortable spot within Tyler’s embrace. He thinks about asking for more, for something that no one else would know, but then he stops himself. It’d be a futile exercise, another reason to wonder if Tyler was really telling the truth, if he was speaking to the man or the con.

“Yeah, that’s all I’m asking for,” he says instead, and he means it.

Tyler doesn’t say anything more and Nolan drifts into a fugue in the quiet pause that follows. He can feel Tyler stroking his shoulder, a slow caress, and after a little while he starts to the feel the night catching up to him.

“Is this the real Tyler experience?” Nolan hears himself ask, drowsy-voiced. Tyler hums softly in response and Nolan turns his head toward the sound, into Tyler’s warm, solid chest.

“This is as real as it gets,” Tyler says gently, sounding a long way away. “Is that enough for you?”

 _Yes_ , Nolan thinks, and it breaks his heart to know this. He closes his eyes and listens for the even rise and fall of Tyler’s breathing, the faint heartbeat beneath his cheek, the realest things he can hold on to in this perfect, fleeting moment.


End file.
